“The Party” Into the thicket Of polished
ruthlessness A collision with a
savage blow Of delusions Balancing on the
bloody blade of trends, Sprouting an
assortment Of pre-approved
ideas and images From a struggling
buffet Of droll fabrication
Constructed with
dementia And fortified with
clusters Of shock-tactic
deceptions, Packaged in a
bungling encumbrance Of social
bureaucracy Set up for
manipulation, Entombed in the
impressionable chest Of odiferous
conforming cubbies Then paraded in a
burlesque Of blazing, sparking
streams Of burnished fervent
ridicule Broken open in a
fusillade Of screaming,
unearthly chaotic tumult, The whole affair an
officious butchery Of honesty and
simplicity Using the blunt butt Of adjoining
conversations Propped by a
vigorous cache Of maxims Misused and trite. Alas, As I gaze in the
mirror I perceive it all Reflected back in my
form And I am resigned To being a captive Of just such tools
of human nature And go forth To mingle, happily
haphazardly. wbiro |